In the Shadow of Heaven
by Babble
Summary: A collection of drabbles and short fiction. Set during the events of Morrowind, following an unknowing Nerevarine through her adventures on Vvardenfell. Loosely connected chapters, no overarching story.
1. Chapter 1

Nadene Othren entered the Mage's Guild hall cautiously, ready at any moment for an angry atronach to throw her out for being so obviously inept in every area of magic. Instead, she found a tall Dunmer woman in opulent robes blocking the hallway.

"Have you come to join the Mage's Guild?" The woman asked, eyeing Nadene suspiciously. Though they were both Dark Elves, Nadene knew that all the Dunmer of Vvardenfell considered her an outlander. She had been hoping the Guild to be different.

"Yes," Nadene stammered. "I know a couple spells already, but I'm not very good." _Good thinking, s'wit. Let her know how terrible you are, that'll improve your chances._

"Hmm." The woman's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps. My name is Ranis Athrys, and I'm the Guild Steward of this branch. I must know: have you ever had any association with House Telvanni, or any member of said House?"

"No. I just arrived in Vvardenfell three days ago. Why, do you have a problem with them?"

"Problem?" Ranis' hands tightened into fists at her sides. "Telvanni is nothing more than a pack of deceitful and murderous nix hounds. You would do well to kill any of their scum you come across."

Nadene nodded. "Right." _So, not xenophobic, just crazy._ "I can join the Mage's Guild, then?"

"I can admit you as an associate. That is the lowest rank. You will have to show an improved aptitude with magic if you hope to advance in the Guild."

"That sounds great, thank you." Nadene smiled. _Maybe things are looking up. "_ I'm sure I'll get better with practice. So when's my first lesson?"

"I do not provide training to ranks lower than Conjurer." Ranis gestured down the hallway to a large room where other mages were at work. "Ajira can provide duties to you, picking flowers to begin with. I hope you brought gold, if you hope to learn any spells."

"What?" Nadene asked, mouth agape. "I have to pay to learn magic here? What about the spirit of scholarly cooperation?"

For the first time since Nadene had met her, Ranis smiled. "The Mage's Guild is a carefully run organization, not a charity for street mages. It's possible that if you pick enough flowers, Ajira might take pity on you. I certainly will never."

 _Terrific. And I thought magic was supposed to be fun._


	2. Chapter 2

Marayn Dren shook his head as Nadene once again failed to levitate. He was beginning to regret training her right outside the Balmora Mage's Guild, where anyone could walk by and gawk.

"It's really quite easy," He drawled. "The Telvanni levitate as a matter of fact."

Nadene tried once more. A minute later Marayn was looking up at her crouched on the roof.

"I've done it." She grinned.

"Now, just levitate down." Marayn left Nadene where she was, ignoring her cries for a ladder. There was research to be done, and no time for incompetent outlander mages.


	3. Chapter 3

Nadene panted as she ran down the road, her enemy close behind. She could hear the clacking of its long pincers getting louder. This Turdas had begun like any other; Nadene had already completed her Mage's Guild duties for the week, and the taverns were practically empty until Fredas evening. So she had decided to go for a walk.

Her foot hit a rock and she collapsed, and the monster rushed forward. Nadene gasped and scrambled backward, fumbling for the dagger on her belt.

The beast attacked, knocking aside the dagger easily with its pincers. Nadene screamed and thrust her hands forward, acting on instinct. She squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to face the end. Instead, the creature squealed in pain. A blue spectre had appeared, and stepped on the mudcrab, killing it with ease.

"Die, ghost!" Nadene lunged, and her dagger went through the spectre. The ghost blinked and crossed its arms.

"I'm your ancestor spirit, foolish _s'wit_." It said. "Summoned to aid you in battle."

"Oh." They both stared at the dead mudcrab, which now appeared quite small. "Normally, I can take care of these ones."

"I _can not believe_ we are related."


	4. Chapter 4

The storm atronach dissipated with a hiss, its void salts showering the rocky ground. Nadene collected the valuable salts before they could blow away, a task made difficult by the glacial temperatures. Her fingers hadn't stopped shivering since she'd arrived on the Divines-forsaken island of Solstheim.

 _Why would anyone choose to live here?_ , Nadene had thought, before remembering she'd spent the last three months adventuring through the desolate wastes and boggy wetlands of Vvardenfell. She hurried to the gleam of moonlight that marked the entrance to the cave, eager to return to Raven Rock and sleep in a proper bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Her chitin helmet was a shoddy piece of armor, taken from an even shoddier bandit, so Nadene didn't keep a close eye on it while she washed her hair in the canalworks of the St. Delyn Canton.

That is, until it began to whimper softly. Nadene almost jumped, and then glanced nervously at the other patrons of the canalworks. _Did someone curse my helmet while I was having a wash?_ She wasn't the best mage in Vvardefell, but even to her a helmet-crying curse seemed rather ridiculous.

Nadene swallowed and made herself look into the helmet, prepared to be blown away by a fireball. Instead, she gasped. Large eyes as crimson as her own were blinking awake. _A baby. Someone put a Dunmer baby in my helmet._

"Nine Divines," she whispered, horrified. "What in Oblivion am I going to do with a baby?"

To give it to the Tribunal Temple would be condemning it to a lifetime of brainwashing and falsehoods, she knew. The infant wriggled around, rocking the helmet back and forth. _Maybe the Imperial Cult._ They seemed well-intentioned enough, if a bit stiff. Nadene sighed, carefully cradled the helmet in her arms, and made for the stairs.


	6. Low Spirits

Nadene wretched and gasped on the floor. She felt Caius judging her.

"First time trying sujamma?" He asked, brow raised. "Curious. Most of the locals seem to have a fondness for it."

"You know I'm not a local, you ass." She wiped her mouth and climbed back into her chair. The spirit sat on the table between them, taunting. "I hope we never have reason to celebrate again."

Caius studied her. She sometimes saw him out in Balmora, stumbling aimlessly like an addict. Even his house was kept in a state of near disaster. His clothes were dusted with a fine powder of moon sugar.

But now he'd put away the mask.

"Ever tried mazte? It's a bit lighter on the palette."

She shook her head.

"Flin? Greef? Brandy?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. How old are you, Nadene?"

"Eighteen, next week."

"Eighteen." Caius ran a hand down his face. "Fine. I'll have new orders for you soon. Until then, go spend your reward on something nice. Enjoy yourself."

"Wow." Normally, the old spymaster was not nearly so warm. "Thanks, sir."

He smiled tightly. "You've earned it. Now go on. Leave me to my thoughts."


	7. Indoril Returns

"Dark Elf? Great. I'm sure you'll fit right in." The soldier beamed. Nadene plodded past in her cloth shoes already damp from the cloying air. The wind pulled at her prison rags. The inside of the excise office was at least warm. But even as the chief agent drolled on with his questions, a timer was running. _They sent me to this bog to die._

"Very good. The letter that preceded you mentioned you were born under a certain sign. And what would that be?"

"Um." Nadene tried to still her mind. "The Serpent."

When she was a child, her father had read to her from a special book.

" _The Serpent wanders about in the sky and has no Season, though its motions are predictable to a degree."_

" _Predict this," she cried, and squeezed his nose. He gasped in mock outrage and tickled her until they were both exhausted._

" _Someday you'll wander off and have adventures," he said. "Maybe you'll visit me, right?"_

" _Read the rest, da."_

 _He grabbed the book and flipped back. "No characteristics are common to all who are born under the sign of the Serpent. Those born under this sign are the most blessed..."_

" _Ooh." Nadene traced her finger across the drawing of the snake. "Why'd you stop?"_

 _Her father hesitated. "The most blessed, and the most cursed."_

"Interesting." The clerk handed over his report. "Now before I stamp these papers, make sure this information is correct."

Her eyes ran over the lines, heart frozen in dread. She mutely returned the scroll to be stamped.

"Show your papers to the Captain when you exit to get your release fee."

She walked away stiffly. As her hand gripped the door to the outside, a cold certainty seized her: _I'm going to die here. I'm sorry, da. I failed._


	8. Poison and Ash

The sun was low when Nadene left Ald'ruhn to venture out into the wastes, and not much higher when she came upon the Redoran Guardsman and the netch. For once no ash storms plagued the area, so she was able to approach from a distance and call out in greeting. In the clearing beyond the guard's position on the cliff, a massive bull netch floated sluggishly.

"Quiet," he hissed. "Duck down, s'wit, before you draw its attention."

"What's the problem?" Nadene obeyed, reluctantly. "Netch are harmless. I think they eat air particles."

Even through his helmet, she could feel the Redoran's eyes rolling. "There's something wrong with this one. Take a second look out there."

Nadene cautiously poked her head out. Near the great floating creature, other members of its kind were laying motionless in the ash. She saw a small betty netch and several younglings.

"Are they sleeping?"

"By the Three, you are a child." The guard leaned back against the rock. "Netch don't stop floating to sleep. They're dead. And I intend to send the bull to join them, if the gods are with me."

Nadene frowned. "Maybe the bull is in mourning. His entire family was killed."

"He's the one that made them that way. He's blighted, or perhaps simply insane."

"Blighted?"

The guard sighed and scratched his chin under the helmet. "You are truly an outlander. The ashblight is a sickness, carried by the winds of Red Mountain. In elves, the blight kills. In beasts, it drives them into an unimaginable fury."

"That's awful." Nadene looked towards the mountain dominating the horizon. "Anyone know where the disease comes from?"

"Aye." He followed her gaze. "The Devil. Dagoth Ur and his ash vampires send their clouds of death beyond the Ghostfence to plague us. Temple used to keep the blight contained behind the barriers, but every week now the storms get worse."

The Redoran turned away, watching the bull netch continue his depressed circuit. The creature was in obvious pain, droning in agony and confusion, and from his tentacles a vile ichor dripped.

"You have to kill it," Nadene said.

"Yes."

"Want me to help?"

"That would certainly improve my odds of survival."

Nadene grimly drew her bow, as did the guard.

"What a horrible thing," she said. The Redoran nodded almost imperceptibly, and took aim.


	9. Revelations

"But before you go, I think it may be time to tell you what's going on."

Nadene nodded, hands clasped. She was finally getting used to life as a Blade, after finessing information from Hassour Zainsubani in Ald'ruhn. Caius paid well, and so far hadn't sent her into mortal peril. She'd even convinced him to put a shirt on. _At this rate, I might make it off Vvardenfell alive._

"The Emperor and his advisers think you have the appearance of meeting the conditions of the Nerevarine prophecies. That's why you were pulled out of prison on his Majesty's authority and sent here. So you could satisfy the conditions of the prophecies and become the Nerevarine. Those were the instructions in the coded package you gave me when you arrived."

She coughed. "Pardon?"

Caius slid a bound scroll across the table. "Here. This is a decoded copy of the coded message you gave me. Read it later. It should explain everything."

A ball of dread had materialized, and it was spreading to all parts of her body like a dough poured delicately into a mold.

"What conditions?" The question seemed to come from someone else.

Caius leaned back. "It's all in the message. The Nerevarine will be 'an orphan and outcast,' as well as 'a youth born on a certain day to uncertain parents.'"

"Wow, Caius, thank you." She smiled without showing her teeth. "I was the _only_ prisoner in the Imperial City feeling like an outcast that day. And certainly all of the other tougher criminals were eager to return to their living, caring families. Oh, my, their parents must have been so worried. It's a miracle the Emperor didn't find me sooner."

"I didn't write the prophecy, girl. I'm just following orders."

She knocked the scroll off the table, furious. "And I love the second part. 'Born on a certain day.' Tell me, lord spymaster. Were you born on an uncertain day? A Loredas that maybe kinda felt more like a Sundas? Or did you pop out right at midnight, and your mother and father flipped a septim to figure out what to write on the birth papers?"

"That's enough." Caius stood up. "You think I want to be in Balmora, while the unrest in Cyrodiil grows every week? My family has to weather that storm without me. None of us get to choose, Nadene." He turned away. "You have your mission."

"Look at me!" Nadene screamed. He did not, so she tried to flip the table. After failing, she collapsed on it and began sobbing. She'd been researching the Nerevarine for months. This couldn't end well.

"I'm going to die," she mumbled into the wood. Caius awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"For what it's worth, I think you'll do fine. You've been an exemplary agent of the Blades."

Somehow, his pity made everything worse. Nadene continued to cry, even as the Emperor's scroll sat waiting, an omen of death and duty.


	10. Guardenfell

"I'll take great care of them, Drulene. Don't you worry."

The other Dunmer woman hesitated. "Maybe I oughta stay. What if one gets sick and I'm not here?"

"You showed me how to mix the herbs." Nadene gently coaxed Drulene out of her house and down the steps. A Redoran guard stood waiting on the road to escort her. "Go enjoy your vacation. You deserve a rest."

"I do." Drulene took a last look at the guars grazing her fields. "Fine. But if anything goes wrong, you send a letter by express courier! I couldn't bear the thought of relaxing in Ebonheart while one of my little ones was in danger."

"Of course!" Nadene talked the older woman through her worries, guiding her forward, and before too long she was waving goodbye.

"Okay, boys." She turned back to the farm, where guars stomped among the grasses. The nearest ones looked up at the sound of her voice. "We're going to have a grand old time, aren't we?"

On previous jobs for House Redoran, Nadene had cleared out mudcrab nests nearby as well as an infestation of bandits, so she didn't fear for the safety of the animals. Although initially dreading the monotony of babysitting a guar herd, she appreciated the change of pace. Ever since Caius had revealed his Nerevarine plot, her missions had grown more and more perilous.

The larger guars slumbered in the grass, but the smallest ones were not yet hardy enough to brave the island's weather. They slept inside, and Nadene even let the more nervous calves join her in bed. The tiny lizard beasts curled up, cooing at the comfort of her body heat. For once on Vvardenfell, cradling the babies close to her, Nadene's sleep was deep and dreamless.


End file.
